Aradiatori: Or The Gospel of the Kitchens~ As lexicon'd by Alien Soda Jerk

Chapter 1

[1]Yarrr [2]. . . [3]In these waning days of Piracy, the Dark Lord Darwin has found dominion all over the globe. [4]His foul Evolution establishes itself as the intellectual overlord of the planet with its evil facts and cursed observational instances in nature. [5]Reason and evidence snake their way into the minds of mankind, harboring to us delusions of an Earth that is billions of years old and populations that change with allele frequencies. [6]Healthy low-carb diets and rational investigation of phenomena plague our wonderful fantasy world. [7]Verily, the pirates of today live under the control of the Science Inquisition. [8]It watches everything, monitoring caloric intake and making it heresy to partake in "foods of the fat." [9]But in some parts of the world, there still survive followers of the Old Religion.

. . . They are the Pasta Witches of New Jersey.

[10]Garbed in crimson witch robes as red as tomato sauce, with tri-corner hats sewn directly into the hood, and big shiny buckles that swung to and fro, they dare to test (but not, like, scientifically) the rule of Darwin. [11]They live in secrecy to avoid the swiveling lenses of the Inquisition, and [12]hidden away in darkened Italian bistros they practice the Old Religion of the Pirates. [13]In bubbling cauldrons they brew the forbidden pleasures of linguini, fusilli, capellini, and vermicelli. [14]They chant their invocations of surly sea shanties and drink sacred grog to explore altered states of awareness. Also it affected their balance and made them walk like they were actually on a rocking ship, so they called it holy for that too. [15]On moonlit nights, they gather in flowing fields of wheat and ride around on brooms outfitted to look like pirate ships, with jibs, aftcastles, rudders, figureheads, and little anchor keychains. [16]And they toss black throw pillows at each other, sinking into the grainy waves if hit, in reenactment of the heroic battles the Old Pirates fought on the high seas. [17]And cloistered away in groups of 13 (that be a baker's dozen), they would invoke their pagan goddess... the Flying Spaghetti Mistress, [18]for She is All Things made of Grain, and the Mother of the Harvest. [19]Some of the witches saw Her as a woman made entirely of pasta. [20]Others saw Her as a mass of noodles formless as the universe. [21]Others insisted that at one point She was a He, and took on a female form on a drunken dare [22]because that's what all-powerful male deities do when they're plastered: turn into a female and grope themselves while their friends laugh and take pictures on their smartphones. [23]Whatever it be, the Pasta Witches were at peace with their differences.

[1]One day, all of the witches of the New Brunswick coven gathered around a bubbling black stove in they found in the woods to celebrate of their holiest heathen holidays — the Summer Saustice. [2]According to their Cook Book of Shadows, the year be divided into a Boiling half and a Simmering half. [3]And the Winter Saucestice, the Ninja God takes control and piracy wanes, causing the warmer weather of Spring and Summer. [4]But on the Summer Saucestice, the Pirate God takes over and piracy thrives, causing the days to grow cooler, and bringing what the witches (and the rest of the brainwashed world) call Fall and Winter. [5]The pasta witches were all in attendance, and the high priestess, Silver RavenFork, spaketh to her crew o' morons:

[6]"Ahoy, me landlubbin' witches! [7]We be gathered 'eer on this night 'o the Cooling Winds ta celebrate one o' arrrgh saltiest o' holidays, the Summer Saucestice! [8]Let us call to our Tipsy Airhead, the the Flyin' Spaghetti Mistress! The FSM!" she said kinda tired-like, as though she didn't really care to be there.

[10]Then the high priestess held up a fork and traced a star in the air, speaking aloud the Four Elements of Nature as she did so: [11]"Wheat, Meat, Sauce, and Season! Come to this circle and feed us Heathens!" [12]And the bubbling stove did bubble with bubbling bubbliness. [13]At that sign, and also the stove's timer dinged, the high priestess knew she had invoked the essence of the FSMistress.

[14]She spaekeathe, [15]"Avast, Spirit o' Pagan Carbohydrates! Maiden o' Meaty Mounds! Mother of the Mizzen Mast! Crone of the Crow's Nest!" Silver rambled, just sorta making things up as she went, [16]"On this night, we celebrate Yer consort, the Pirate God, overthrowing the oppressively warm and bright Ninja God, bringing us in cooler temperatures and the lessened reasoning skills of the Halloween and ChriFSMas season! All Hail the Pirate God!" Silver RavenFork announced.

[17]"ALL HAIL THE PIRATE GOD! ALL HAIL THE FSMistress!" chanted the witches.

[20]The high priestess then turned to her acolyte, "Throw ye the divination runes! Let the universe reveal the year's noodly fate!" [21]The acolyte cast a tankard of rotelle, conchiglie, and radiatori across a stone cutting board, and readied to interpret how they fell. [22]Then [23]she [24]ga[25]sped. [26]A lone bit of radiatori came out upon the board; all the other pieces stuck to the inside of the cup without explanation.

[1]Aye... the Noodly Daughter... a figure prophecized long ago in the year something by somebody. [2]Accordin' ta the Cook Book o' Shadows, there would be a time when the Flyin' Spaghetti Mistress would send forth Her daughter, a maiden who was both totally human and totally pasta, to teach the witches of New Jersey the Old Ways of the Pirates. [3]And Silver RavenFork did tremble at this revelation, for she was not used to serious things that didn't involve glitter, stickers, and other silly 13-year-old girl things. [4]The pasta witches did pack up their things and retreat for the night.

[5]A few days later, two of the witches were lounging in a field of wheat, making magical anchor charms out of straw. [6]They spoke of Noodly Things but keel-hauled their flabbing lips as their eyes caught wind of a band of ninja inquisitors in full karate attire sneaking toward them, [7] which was actually kinda easy to see because they were wearing all black in a field of light brown wheat, but anyway... [8]The witches knew that if their piracy were discovered, the Science Inquisition would have them burned at the elliptical, and it would be turned onto that really high resistance setting, and their thighs would totally feel like they were on fire. [9]But just as the ninjas stretched their arms out, a miracle did occur! [10]The tall, wheaty grass came to life, and seized the evil ninjas where they stood! [11]And the grass ensnared the ninjas and pulled them down inta' the Earth itself, and they vanished beneath the grainy soil.

[12]The witches looked at the spot where their attackers had just been, flabbergasted [13](they were also a tiny bit drunk and so were already flabbergasted about many things, but at this happening, sharply more so). [14]Then a breeze did pick up, and outta the wind-blown strands of wheat, a maiden took form! [15]Her witch robe be tattered and black with a jolly roger on the front, a real tricorner hat adorned her head, straws of wheat flowed with her hair as though a natural part of it, a treasure chest satchet hung by her waist, and nautical trinkets from all over the globe adorned her buckle. [16]The mysterious maiden did look at the witches and spaeketh to them a long and eloquent greeting:

[1]That night, all the witches assembled around the black stove in the forest to see for themselves the FSM's own begotten wench. [2]The maiden pirate was totally hot, both attractively and thermally, for she was conceived in a pot over a high flame, [3]and she raised up her hand and spoketh to her witches. [4]"Avast me humble pirates, ye who practice the Old Religion! I be Aradiatori! Daughter of the Flyin' Spaghetti Mistress! [5]And I have come ta' teach ye all the ways of the Pirates and reveal to ye the Secrets of the Noodle, for the tide has come for a revival of the Old Ways!" [6]And the pasta witches did celebrate the arrival of their Queen of the Pirates, and they studied the arcane arts of pasta long since forgotten.

[7]Aradiatori taught them the ancient and forgotten myths of the Pirates, and of the magical powers of Pasta. [8]She also told them of the midgets and midgits, of Fearsome Pirate Pete, and the mysterious disappearance of Solipsy. [9]She told them of the Antlered Pirate God, who has antlers made out of forks for some reason, and how [10]he totally nails the Flyin' Spaghetti Mistress the first day o' May, impregnating her with the noodles that would become the laws of nature. [11] And they celebrated the ancient fertility holidays, with Aradiatori leading, [12]"Yea! Hail the Mistress, full of new pasta again! Yea! [13]For the Flyin' Spaghetti Mistress is a Tipsy Airhead that does not take much to get in bed!"

[14]Aradiatori also liberated their spirits from the repression of their Darwinian society, and bid them to go skinny dipping along the beach, and perform saucy rituals under the moon (both R-rated and literally involving spaghetti sauce), and to be nood as noodles are in their rites. [15]"Feel ye no embarressment to wear a kitchen apron and nothing underneath! [16]For all acts of stove and leisure are my rituals!" [17]She taught her witches to firm against the Darwinists, but also to be compassionate, and explained how to conduct themselves with the Kitchen Rede: [18]"An it parm' none, chew as ye will," meaning as long as no one throws parmesan in yer face, ye must treat them nicely.

[19]The Pirate Maiden taught them the deeper secrets of the cosmos, that deep down, at a level too small for even the most powerful of sciencey microscopes to detect, everything is made of tiny vibrating noodles. [20]She told her witches [21]"Believeth not that ye are just meat and bone, as the Darwinist Church will tell ye. For within, Noodly beings are we!" [22]To show them the noodly wonders of the cosmos, Aradiatori taught them the art of "pastral projection," how to send their spirits out of their bodies and explore the FSMistress' Beer Volcano for themselves, like a sailor casts a parrot to explore unreachable islands.

[23]As the witches traveled, Aradiatori came upon a Spanish town, where the people ate nothing but blasphemous paella, a miserable concoction of Valencian rice. [24]And so with her magical cooking powers, Aradiatori extracted the hated rice and in its place put vermicelli, and called this new dish Fideua. [25]And the Spaniards rejoiced at the sight of pasta, and they baptised their young ones in the meal, [26]and Aradiatori back away from them slowly. [27]And the knowledge of the Noodly Daughter began to spread, like butter over a hot plate full of of linguine, and the false Darwinist Church found itself in boiling water.

[1]After many months of traveling and teaching abroad, Aradiatori and her coven of witches had started a cult following, and covens of Pasto-paganism had arisen all over the American continent. [2]But the corrupt Darwinist Church had not been defeated. [3]On an overcast afternoon, while the witches were brewing Orzo in a forest clearing, a stranger appeared — an inquisitor from the Church of Darwinism. [4]He appeared as an Ivy League university professor, wearing a tweed jacket, khaki pants, and ninja mask. [5]But lo, by the time the witches noticed him, a horde of ninjas had dropped down from the trees and ran out into the clearing, surrounding them from all sides like a pot surrounds pasta.

[6]Their hands bound, the witches were taken away and brought to the University courtyard. [7]The witches were walked out and sat on the ellipticals, a panel of evolutionists watching. [8]The Darwinists murmured to one another, hunching over and resting their chins on their hands, for they had not the energy brought to them by carbs. [9]Aradiatori looked up at the sky and called aloud "Flyin' Spaghetti Mistress! [10]Show these land-lubbin' blasphemers the error o' their ways! Show 'em not ta trust in their idols o' logic and evidence!" [11]The professor then pressed the button to activate the excerise machines.

[12]The foolish scientists exchanged puzzled glances as nothing happened, but then horror betook them! [13]For out of the sky . . . She had skin the color o' wheat, and Her hair was a living blanket o' capellini, [14]and she wore a red robe made out of living spaghetti sauce, which undulated and dripped at the edges but still held its form! [15]A pair of meatballs sat between Her arms, but whether real or some form of armor could not be told. [16]And upon Her beautiful face, googly eyes did rattle beneath smokey mascara and lashes. [17]It be Her! The Goddess of Grain! The Flyin' Spaghetti Mistress!

[18]The FSMistress floated over to the baffled scientists, whose pantaloons did smell of waste material. [19]"Ahoy, me poor lost pirates," She saideth to them in a loving yet jestful voice, [20]]"Looky! I'm floating, even though I have mass!" [21]And at this paradox, the Darwinists did black out, and the ellipticals rusted and deformed, allowing Aradiatori and her witches to escape. [22]The FSMistress looked upon Her Daughter and her witches and smiled, saying to them [23]"There be more pirating to be done," before disappearing into a cloud of waving wheat strands.

[24]The Darwinists there that day gave up Evolution forever to live a quiet life of rowdy pirating. [25]Aradiatori and her witches then up and vanished, although every once and a while, a parrot will squawk about the Queen of the Pirates sailin' about on a real pirate ship, bringing Knowledge of the Noodle to distant lands and keeping the Old Ways o' the Pirates alive.

That's the story so far. (If that wasn't already inferred...) If anyone has some comments or whatever, please shoot; I can always edit the story. I'll admit, I was kinda tired when I wrote the last chapter, so if it sounds rushed, I can redo it.

I almost felt compelled to tie nine knots into a strand of Angelhair pasta, before attaching a Conchiglie Rigate to one end, and then scrying through thy manuscript with it, but that bodes ill on the Waning Gibbous Moon. Thou hast captured the very essence of Silver Ravenfork! Blessed Bavette.

I will honor Monkey in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.~Charles "Darwin" Dickens

pieces o'nine wrote:to tie nine knots into a strand of Angelhair pasta, before attaching a Conchiglie Rigate to one end, and then scrying through thy manuscript with it, but that bodes ill on the Waning Gibbous Moon.

Oh my FSM, that was beautiful. With your permission, may I put that somewhere into the story?

That is really good. It's great to see a non-Christian/Jewish version popping up. I have yet to gain any inspiration for my Pagan version, but it appears as if you definitely have done. It will make a great addition to the annals of law.

Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed

pieces o'nine wrote:to tie nine knots into a strand of Angelhair pasta, before attaching a Conchiglie Rigate to one end, and then scrying through thy manuscript with it, but that bodes ill on the Waning Gibbous Moon.

Oh my FSM, that was beautiful. With your permission, may I put that somewhere into the story?

Of course.

I will honor Monkey in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.~Charles "Darwin" Dickens